


Hold Me Tight (Just For Tonight)

by ArtsyDeath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Blow Jobs, Come Marking, Comeplay, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Harry Potter, Fluff and Smut, Multi, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 11:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyDeath/pseuds/ArtsyDeath
Summary: Harry has been suffering increasingly from nightmares, waking up in odd locations without remembering how she'd gotten there.Fate brings her to Shell Cottage where Fleur offers an unconventional solution after a night free from nightmares.But sharing a bed comes with its own problems, as Bill will tell you.-Or: Fleur lends Bill a hand and Harry wakes up just at the right moment to tip their arrangement into something else entirely.





	Hold Me Tight (Just For Tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing prompt for a Bill/Harry/Fleur piece!

Harry stares out over the sandy beach.

At the tall rough grass on the dipping hills and the dark sea glittering in the low light from the moon above her, trailing to the barely visible light from a lamp burning low on the front porch of Shell Cottage.

The wind whips past her, tugging at her hair, at her too large t-shirt with its many holes, and Sirius old sweats which she’d taken the habit to sleeping in. Feet bare, toes burying into the cold sand, wand nowhere to be found.

She doesn’t remember getting there.

Harry wraps her arms around herself with a shiver, swallowing as she looks towards the house that had been their salvation after Malfoy Manor, wounds drying on her back even as Dobby was dying in her arms – his large eyes warm with devotion, his touch against her cheek attempting to bring comfort even at the very end as she curled around his small body.

Harry doesn’t know what would have become of her if Dobby hadn’t gotten them out.

Even as she had appeared at the Malfoys trial she had refused to look at Lucius, muscles stiff when Narcissa had sunk to her knees after everything was said and done, forehead pressing against the floor, thanking her over and over again.

She takes a hesitant step forward, letting her steps lead her down the sandy beach, feeling the small stones and occasional stick beneath her soles, squinting towards the ground as it turns from sand to sticky grass, jumping over the small holes and dens made by animals, threading carefully around a large glittering spider web tugged at by the wind.

Grass turns to a wooden porch and Harry halts in front of the door.

It has been nearly four years since the war ended and Harry had seen Bill and Fleur both on the odd occasion during gatherings arranged by the Weasleys.

And- no matter how she looked at it the situation deserved its explanations, even if Harry’s stomach knots inside of her as she stares down at the brass handle.

 _I’m fine,_ that had been her answer to Ron the last time he asked her, a strange sort of concern in his expression when he’d cornered her after another mission.

How was she supposed to explain that she sometimes woke up in strange places with no memory of how she’d gotten there? That she spent more nights hanging over the toilet bowl with sweat dripping down her forehead than not when everyone else was moving on, marrying, building families while she couldn’t even get over the memory of-

Harry knocks hard on the door, sharper than she meant, arms settling back around her for a measurement of warmth as she waited with growing nausea in the pit of her belly.

Were they even home? What was she supposed to do if they-

Light casts into the windows beside the door and Harry hears the footsteps before the rattle of a chain being pulled back, lock clicking open and handle turning to reveal Bill – Fleur just a step or two behind him with her wand drawn.

It lowers at the sight of her.

“’Arry?” Despite the years there was a lingering French accent to Fleur’s words, deepening with the pronunciation of her name as she takes a hesitant step towards her. “What are you doing here?”

Harry stares at her – at the eerie platinum blond hair, sharp features and concern visible in the dip of her brow.

Her fingers twitches against her ribs.

“I don’t know,” she admits.

 -

Fleur lights the candles in the kitchen window with her wand while Bill keeps an eye on the milk on the stove while breaking off pieces from a heavy chocolate bar, a bottle of whisky pulled from one of the cupboards and poured in the bottom of three mugs after a questioning eyebrow in her direction.

Harry finds herself seated at the small kitchen table with a blanket around her shoulders and a pair of thick socks on her feet, chair scraping as Fleur pulled it out to take a seat opposite her, managing to look surprisingly refreshed despite the hour of the night in a simple deep blue silk nightgown.

“Has this happened before?” Fleur asks as she studies the younger girl across the table.

Harry nods, gaze fixated on the table as the scent of hot chocolate spread through the kitchen, the sound of pouring soon following and Bill served them up a mug each before taking a seat on the end between the two of them.

He was wearing striped pants, bathrobe knotted around his waist, hair pulled back in a messy high-knot, the scars on his face standing out visibly side-by-side with his wife’s flawless face.

Harry reaches for the mug, cradling it between her cold fingers.

“I don’t know how,” she admits in the patient silence. “I go to sleep and then-“ She shrugs.

“And today, you ended up here,” Fleur observes, giving her husband a look that made him clear his throat, placing his own mug down.

“Does Ron know?”

Harry shakes her head.

“Hermione?”

Another shake.

“Does anyone know?” Bill asks, real worry seeping into his voice as he studies the Girl-Who-Lived, observing her tense shoulders, the hollowness of her cheeks, the bags beneath her eyes and underlying exhaustion visible in the heaviness of her limbs.

Harry’s mouth thins. “I’m fine,” she says, defensiveness creeping into her voice as she raises her head.

Bill hums, noncommittal and clearly unimpressed but willing not to push it just yet.

Fleur shows no such restraint. “It’s in ze middle of the night,” she says, accent thickening. “And you were wandering around barefoot in October without your wand. What would you have done if Bill and I weren’t here?”

Harry opens her mouth, closes it, knuckles turning white around the mug as her grip tightened.

Fleur breathes out. “Bill, we have place for another in our bed, yes?”

“I guess,” he says slowly, “but we do have a guestroom-“

“Good,” Fleur interrupts. “You.” She points at Harry who gives her a startled look, “I don’t trust you not to leave so you are sleeping with us tonight. Tomorrow we will speak about whatever _this_ is.” And she clicked her tongue, disappearing up the stairs as Bill and Harry stared after her.

Bill clears his throat. “Gabrielle always sleeps in our bed when she has nightmares,” he tells her in a low voice. “I’ll talk with her-“

“No,” Harry says, dragging a hand through her hair. “It’s alright.” She gives him a painful smile. “If I disappear again at least you’ll notice,” she jokes weakly.

She stills when Bill reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“I know the situation isn’t ideal,” he says carefully. “But we’ll help you to the best of our abilities, alright? You’re not alone in this anymore.”

Harry swallows, nodding.

Fleur is already waiting for them when Harry peers inside, Bill giving her a little nudge to step fully into the room, closing the door shut behind them as he dragged the bathrobe off his shoulders and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.

Harry meets Fleur’s eyes as she hesitantly climbs into the bed, regret and doubt creeping up on her when the reality of the situation truly sunk in, but before she could start making excuses Fleur threw the cover half-way over her and Harry shifts closer, tense and unsure until the older woman gave a little sigh and reached for her, tugging up beside her.

“We don’t bite,” Fleur says with just a touch of exasperation.

Harry supposes that to someone like Bill and Fleur both her hesitance might seem strange but she hadn’t grown up with siblings or parents – the idea of sharing a bed was a completely foreign thing and she settles a bit stiffly between them as Bill slides in, crowding her between them.

A murmur of good night and Harry finds herself staring up at a dark ceiling, painfully aware of the two bodies stretched out beside her.

But the longer she lies there the more aware she becomes of the warmth seeping into her cold limbs, warming her up and relaxing the stiffness of her fingers as her eyes lidded and with a little help from the whisky and the hot chocolate she was soon deep asleep.

-

“- octopus.”

“Ssh, careful Bill – don’t wake her.”

Harry tightens her grip, fingers digging into something soft, shifting closer with a curl of her back as something tugged at her and she’s distantly aware of an amused huff and a sigh of exasperation.

“We need to wake her up.”

“… She needs the sleep.”

“And you need to use the bathroom.”

A grumble, something straining against her grip as she pressed desperately closer with a whine of protest, unwilling to give up the reason for the most pleasant sleep she’d had in _years._

A sigh.

“… She’s kinda cute like this though, isn’t she?”

“Mm,” a feminine voice agrees.

A palm strokes down her tense back until she was slowly relaxing back, head twisting to press deeper into the wonderful scent that curled and seeped around her with a heady sort of feeling that settled deep in her bones

She’s nearly completely asleep against when she finds herself gently shifted and she tensed but lips presses against her temple, a soothing voice as she's hoisted up and settled against something even warmer, the flowery scent shifting into something woodsy as she breathed in deeply through her nose.

“Good girl,” the voice murmurs warmly, bed shifting as soft steps padded off.

Harry curls around the warmth beneath her, entwining legs and tucking her nose up against a stubbled neck to a small breathy laugh, one arm wrapping around her back as she slowly relaxes back into a deep sleep.

-

Harry wakes several hours later to the smell of food, the clink of porcelain and soft conversation.

“Oh- ‘Arry, ready to join the land of the living?” Fleur’s voice teases her as she groans, extracting stiff limbs and pulling up into a sitting position with a yawn and a brush of her palm against her eyes as her fuzzy mind slowly makes sense of the situation – Bill on his back with a piece of apple snagged beneath his teeth, slowly pushing himself up, Fleur with a tray of diced fruits and yoghurt and a long fork.

Harry’s eyes slowly widens and she flushes darkly when she realises just what she’d been clutching in her sleep and Fleur giggles at her, reaching over with a strawberry speared on a fork with an offer to Bill as he munched down the apple.

“You ‘ave limbs like tentacles,” the French woman tells her in amusement, poking the fork down on another piece of strawberry and holding it out in offering and Harry stares at it, mouth opening as it poked up against her lips and delicately accepting with a scraping of teeth against the metal.

She licks a brush of strawberry juice from her lower lip, dragging a hand through her hair.

“Sorry,” she says a bit sheepishly. “I think it was the best sleep I’ve had in ages,” she admits, stretching her limbs out and over her head with an arch of her back and another yawn as she settled contently, still fuzzy and too content to care about the oddity of the situation as Fleur held out the fork again, this time with a grape, accepting it with a burst of flavours on her tongue as she bit down on the soft skin.

“Why do you think you came _here_ yesterday?” Bill asks, plucking a grape from the bowl and flicking it into his mouth. “I mean – has there been some sort of theme to the locations you’ve turned up?”

Harry considers it, accepting another grape absently. “I think… I think it’s all been places that were _safe_ during the war,” she says slowly. “The hill where we narrowly escaped Fenrir, the clearing where Hermione and I danced…” She stares down at her hands.

“You’ve been ‘aving nightmares,” Fleur observes and Harry jerks up towards her, quickly averting her gaze, and she doesn’t deny it.

“’ow often?”

“… Every night,” Harry admits, shame and embarrassment thick inside of her.

“But not tonight,” Bill muses, looking sympathetic.

Harry curls her hands together, shrugging.

“If sleeping together with others helps, why don’t you ask ‘ermione or Ronald for help?” Fleur suggests. “They are your best friends, no?”

Harry is shaking her head before she’s finished talking. “I _can’t,”_ she says, tension knotting up her shoulders and Fleur makes a soft noise.

“Then how about staying with us for a while,” Bill suggests. “Just until we figure out something else.”

Harry’s gaze darts desperately between the two of them before she swallows thickly.

_“Thank you.”_

-

There’s one thing none of them take into consideration, as Bill becomes painfully aware of four weeks into their arrangement when he wakes up rock hard with a small feminine shape sleeping softly on top of him, Fleur tucked against his shoulder, and panic settles low in his gut.

“Fleur-“ he hisses with mild panic, rustling her with a bump of his shoulder while simultaneously trying to dip his hips low to avoid pressing up against the girl only to have her tighten around him to a hitch of his breath. “Fle-“

“Bill?” she murmurs sleepily, pretty blue eyes opening to peer at him in confusion.

“I’m _hard,_ ” he bites out, jolting as Harry shifts, head turning, mouth pressing up against his neck with puffs of warm air through her open lips.

Fleur pushed herself up on one arm, the other rising to cover her mouth, amusement glittering in her eyes.

 _“Fleur,”_ he complains.

“Tis a perfectly natural reaction,” she reassures him with a twitch of her lips.

“Just help me,” he hisses, swallowing down a noise as her hips pushed up against his cock with a little curl of her back.

Fleur reaches out and stroked a palm gently against the shoulder blades of the younger, slowly getting her to loosen her grip and curl around an offered pillow with a little nudge off Bill who breathed out on a whoosh of air.

“Do you need a hand?” Fleur asks with a raised brow and a meaningful look after making sure Harry had been tucked down properly.

“She’s right _there_ ,” Bill says, inhaling sharply as Fleur shifts, hand sneaking out to press down against his erection with a knowing look in her eyes.

“That wasn’t a _no_ ,” she purrs.

Bill jerks guiltily, glancing towards Harry who was still facing them, face relaxed in deep sleep, doing nothing as Fleur nudged him down on his back, and he swallows as he raises his hips when she tugs at the hem of his pants, allowing her to pull them down just enough to get his erection free to a sharp hiss.

“Oh my poor, Bill,” Fleur murmurs, brushing fingers against the straining erection and he nearly whimpers as she grasps him firmly in her hand, curving up and over the head with a twist as his hips rose sharply at the feeling. “Don’t worry,” she reassures. “I will take good care of you.”

Bill muffles a groan, fingers digging into the bed and straining not to push up and into her as Fleur opened her mouth and swallowed him half-way into her mouth, curving the tip of her tongue to drag it up along the underside as she pulled off before pushing down again.

He reaches out, combing her hair down on one side of her neck, desperate to see the way her lips stretched around the girth of his cock, the veela lure like a heady call just beneath her skin as a hand wrapped low around his erection, grasping it nearly painfully tight as she curved her back and took him deep before pulling back with a flick of her tongue against his slit.

“So beautiful,” he whispers with a hitch of his breath, watching her, always a bit disbelieving that this sinful woman had chosen him of all people, her eyes never leaving his as she bent down and took inch after inch after inch until her nose was pushing against the neatly trimmed pubes at the end, satisfaction in her eyes at the awe in his.

“Been too long-“ he gasps, voice strained as she bobbed her head, the drag and warm wetness of her mouth overwhelming, and he can feel tension coiling through him as she hums around him and he gasps as he presses up-

“Fleur?”

Bill jerks at the sound of the voice, Fleur dragging back up and off him, only realising too late her mistake as cum splatters upon her chin and cheek, surprise in her gaze as he stares at her in mild horror.

Bill throws an arm over his head, cheeks turning red.

Fleur slowly raises a hand, wiping at a blob of opaque white as Harry stares at her, frozen in place.

“That was not the plan,” she says just a tad wryly. “Sorry, ‘Arry, we didn’t mean to wake you.”

Harry swallows, eyes darting between Bill and Fleur as she slowly shifts into a sitting position, Fleur raising an eyebrow at her, managing to somehow look proper despite the cum splattered upon her.

“I’m so, so sorry Harry,” Bill says with thick guilt in his voice.

“It’s – It’s okay.” Harry clears her throat. “I know my presence here hasn’t been… ideal. I’m – it’s fine, really.” She clenches her hands in the pillow. “Do you – I can spend the night in the guestroom if you want to… _finish up_.”

Bill makes a wheezy sort of noise.

But Fleur – the woman is watching her with a considering look in her eyes as she slowly raises the fingers she’d used to wipe cum from her face and Harry watches with widening eyes as she dipped the fingers into her open mouth, making a show of flattening her tongue up against the digits with a swipe before her lips sealed down and she dragged them out with a wet  _pop._

Harry swallows a strange noise, jerking her gaze down guiltily at the flare of arousal the picture brought.

Fleur grins a lazy sort of grin.

“Would you like a taste?” Bill freezes in place and Harry looks up at her with wide green eyes. “It’s okay if you do,” Fleur murmurs, intent on the younger as her hands curled and uncurled in the plushy fabric of the pillow.

“Fleur…” Bill says a bit warily but she raises a brow at him and he falters, biting his lips as he glances towards his little brother’s best friend.

Harry very, very slowly pushes the pillow off her lap, uncurling with a slow shift towards the older woman, on her hands and knees as Bill watches with growing disbelief as she reaches out with a trembling hand on Fleur’s shoulder, meeting calm light blue eyes as she grasped it tight and leaned forward with daring, tongue dragging from the splatter on her chin and up.

Harry shifts, angling her head to get the cum on Fleur’s cheek as well, making sure it was all gone before pulling back with a swallow that made Bill grasps the sheet white-knuckled.

“Taste good, no?” Fleur says with a low purr, reaching out to tuck black hair behind an ear. “Can I taste _you_ , ‘Arry?”

Harry nods slowly and Fleur’s eyes hungers as she leans forward, shifting up on her kness and slanting her mouth over the younger’s with a soft moan as Harry gasps, inviting her deeper with a curl of tongues and a tilt of her head, and Fleur can taste her husband’s essence in the salty sting of her mouth, pulling back with clear reluctance.

“Breathe, darling,” Fleur reminds her husband with a tug of her lips and he gasps for air with a shudder below them as Harry jerks a bit guiltily when she remembers just whose wife she’d been kissing.

“That – please do that again,” Bill says, voice strained, hand reaching down to curl around his erection and Harry flushes, meeting Fleur’s gaze shyly.

“Would you like that, ‘Arry?” Fleur asks, leaning forward to drag her nose against her cheek, placing a soft kiss upon it. “Would you like to _stay?_ ”

“Please,” Harry whispers and Fleur grasps her face, framing it between elegant hands as she tilts her mouth back over the other’s to a stuttered breath and lips sliding together, tongues wrapping and dragging as Fleur slowly guided Harry down on her back, shifting to straddle her as she easily dominated the kiss with a stretch of her lips at the easy surrender.

Bill palms his cock, watching in a mixture of overwhelming arousal and disbelief as Harry tilts her head, baring her throat with a little whimper into his wife’s mouth.

“Would you like to taste _me,_ ‘Arry?” Fleur murmurs against her lips as she pulls back and Harry makes a noise of want, breathless as she nods, and Fleur’s eyes darken. “Bill?” she requests and he drags himself up, reaching out and grasping the hem of Fleur’s underwear as she rucked up the nightgown, helping her out of them as Harry watches them both, overwhelmed from the sudden turn of things but wanting it desperately.

Her eyes settles on Fleur’s folds as she shifts forward, dipping her knees down on either side of Harry’s neck, elevated just enough that her nose brushed against her.

Harry curls her back, pressing up just enough to place a kiss on them and Fleur follows her mouth down, settling her weight carefully as Harry grasps at one of her thighs, tongue sliding out to drag against the inside of her folds, curling up against her clit and then down with a wet slide towards her entrance, flattening teasingly over it as Fleur hitched her hips up with a breathy sigh before relaxing down.

Bill can’t resist reaching out and running his palm up and below the t-shirt Harry had been sleeping in until he found the small breasts just beneath his wife’s rump and twists one of the nipples that were straining visibly against the fabric to a sharp moan from his wife that could only mean good things.

Emboldened he dragged the fabric up to her armpits and leant forward, dragging his tongue over the pebbled flesh before sucking it into his mouth, working it with tongue and teeth while nudging at the hem of the sweats, getting them down and over her hips before dragging them down with an angled foot as he settled between the spread of her legs, opening her up further against his thighs.

Fleur’s breath hitches, bending forward, hands curling into the fabric of the sheets and hips rising as Harry spread her open on her tongue with a curl as she dragged against the sensitive nerves just inside, tightening her grip on Fleur’s thigh to pull her back down to a moan.

Bill draws back, snapping the sides of Harry’s panties and dragging them off, spreading her folds with his thumbs, admiring the pretty pink flesh as Fleur jolted with a pretty little sigh in French as she rocked against the mouth beneath her.

He grasps his cock, heart pounding in his chest as he stroked the head up and against the small pussy, making sure to push up against the sensitive bundle of nerves, dragging down over the opening and watching as an opaque bead of pre cum snagged there, mouth dry as he pressed a thumb down and pushed it into her to a hitch of her hips.

He meets his wife’s eyes as she angles back to look at him and her eyes are dark with hunger as they trail down, watching as he nudges up against the entrance to the body beneath him, swallowing as she slowly stretched out around the head of his cock, the picture obscene as she squirmed with a little whimper into Fleur’s pussy, dragging her down further to push deeper as he got the head into her with a groan of relief, sweat beading on his back.

Wet warm walls clenches around him as he slowly pushes forward, watching with disbelief as she took inch after inch into her until he halted, head pushed up against her cervix, impossibly deep inside of her, just shy of bottoming out.

“Does she feel good?” Fleur teases, breathing hard, clearly straining, toes curling – just one the verge of tipping over the edge as Bill struggled to simply start fucking her.

Fleur’s mouth opens again but then it’s snapping shut and she jerks with a shocked noise, pushing down as Harry sucked her clit hard into her mouth, tongue rubbing roughly against the bundle of nerves, and she comes, fingers grasping at black hair, tugging down and trying to pull up only to have Harry pull her stubbornly downward to dip inside of her and taste the slick of her orgasm while Fleur whimpered in shock, eyes blowing wide, and Bill-

Bill pulls himself out and pushes back inside with a rough drag, eyes locked onto his wife as she was quickly forced through one orgasm towards the next, spreading the walls with a smack of his hips up against Harry, her back rolling, legs spreading to take him deeper with the next thrust.

“A- A-,” Fleur arches her back, swearing something in French as she came hard and fast and Harry releases her, allowing her to pull up and away as she arched at the feeling of being spread on Bill’s cock, rolling over to her belly willingly as he yanked out of her and pushed at her hip, hitching up on her knees as he pushed back inside of her with a smack against her rump as she took him all the way to the root, grinding into her depth as Fleur watched them both, breathless and slowly coming down from her orgasm.

He’s too big for her but the pain edges into something delicious as Harry pushes desperately back against him, hands on her hips as he took her, and Fleur moans with a soft murmur of French as she leans forward to kiss her husband, hand sneaking down, fingers spreading to feel the push of his cock in the girl, grinding her palm up against her clit, pushing against the jolt of Bill’s hips.

It all knots up into something too much and Harry comes with a sharp gasp and a jerk, Bill’s hands tightening and she whines as he takes her in hard short thrusts, straining towards his own orgasm until he hilts with a stutter, yanking himself out as Fleur pushes down on Harry’s hips and he comes with a splatter on her back, panting as he wrenched himself dry with a twist of his fist.

Fleur touches against the bare skin, sliding up and helping Harry out of the shirt still bunched up tight at her shoulders with a soft brush of her lips against one of her shoulder blades.

Harry stiffens up when she realises just what the two of them were looking at but Fleur hushes her, dipping her fingers in Bills cum and tracing it over one of the scars left from her weeks spent in Lucius’ office, dipping into the groove of another.

Bill flops down beside her and his eyes are kind as she peers up at him – his face marred by the claws of the werewolf, mouth dipping where it had clipped the corner of his lips. He reaches out for her hand with patience, allowing her to slowly worm it out to be placed in his, stilling and then slowly touching as he placed it up against the side of his face.

“They don’t define us,” he tells her simply.

There’s a wet noise and Harry freezes at the feel of Fleur’s nude body against her back, nightgown discarded, arms wrapping around her, hips curling over her buttocks and lips pressing against her neck.

Bill’s ears goes red and Harry feels the slide of Fleur’s body and breasts in the come between them with a strange sort of fascination as colour spreads from her cheeks all the way to her chest.

“Fleur-“ Bill protests as his cock twitches.

“What?” Fleur says innocently, shifting with a squishy noise that makes Harry bury her face in the covers, shoulders shaking with laughter as Bill groans loudly.

**Author's Note:**

> I really like these three together and I was considering expanding on the last scene but I liked how it ended so I'm going to leave it be for now.
> 
> I was really feeling the hurt/comfort today. Might revisit for something else in the future but for now I'm marking it as finished.
> 
> Artsy-death on tumblr if you're passing by.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
